No Time to Cry (Nine While Nine Legacy Book 1) (28 page)

I tilted my
head. He was doing it to me again, already.

I was lost in
him. I could feel his energy floating over to me. I don’t even know if energy
was the right word. Essence perhaps would be better. Whatever I was feeling was
such an integral part of him. Was I sensing his mhésen?

“Hmm.” I nodded.
“Like what?”

“I enjoy
museums. Bookstores are very nice. Restaurants.
Quiet
restaurants. I
like walking at night.”

“Very quiet.” I
smiled. He was so near. I just wanted to reach out and touch him again. I
wanted to know what his lips felt like. Wanted to taste the wine on them. I
wanted it real, not dreamed.

He spoke, but I
missed it. Partly from being momentarily lost in those images dancing through
my psyche, partly because the music had become louder. Okay, so he was right,
it was pretty loud in here. Must be that time of night where they really
cranked it up, as patrons became more intoxicated and louder themselves.
Conversations at his coffee house, and the Snug, were much more audible.

“What?” I leaned
in closer to him. So, the loudness did have a perk. He leaned in to meet me, his
face gliding to within kissing distance.
Stop it!
I scolded myself. He
was close enough that I could feel the heat from his cheek against mine. The
warmth of his breath against my ear as he spoke.

“You look lovely
tonight.” The warmth of his skin, his breath, those words—those words from him.
And that’s all it took. My stomach took a steep dive, I couldn’t breathe; I
couldn’t think straight, I couldn’t swallow—my throat suddenly the Sahara. I
could feel that amber warmth spreading out around my heart, through it,
throughout me, reach out of me. It was strong enough to force my eyes closed
with sudden weakness. My heart rate notched up. And I was immobilized there,
nearly cheek to cheek. This was different than on the dance floor. I felt it
reach out for him, move around him softly, felt his breath against my ear catch
and then speed up in unison with my own. Neither of us could move, nor speak.
Just breath and feel. Feel what we’d both denied since first setting eyes on
each other that very first time at Elysium. I was drowning in the feeling,
drowning in his scent, the spice, the smoke the earth of it. I could feel him,
feel him breathing, hear him breathing as though no music blared around us, as
if we were cocooned. If I were to just turn my head a bit more to the right,
brush my lips against his skin, what would he do? Oh, what would he do?

I had to end
this, couldn’t take it any farther, where I wanted with every ounce of my
mhésen to take it. Rejection from Liam was terrible; rejection from Gideon
would be utter destruction.

‘”I couldn’t
hear you, it’s too loud.” I laughed softly next to his ear.

“My point
exactly.” He laughed lowly, near my ear. Paused a moment then added, his voice
holding a poorly hidden frayed edge. “It’s time for me to go. I have things to
finish up before tomorrow.” His cheeked grazed mine as he spoke, the stubble
scraping lightly in the most pleasing way, an electric rush rippled through me
and for just a second I felt my spine collapse. Then he pulled away. And all I
wanted was to pull him back.

Our eyes met
briefly while we were still close and all I wanted was him. To go with him.

But instead I
said, “Okay, see you tomorrow.” As if nothing had just passed between us. I sat
back in the booth.

I watched him
leave. And said not another thing to bring him back. Everything in me weakened
by him, his closeness. Melancholy gripped my heart. Damn, this was
excruciating, and frustrating.

 We’d had a
total movie moment, where you want to yell at the screen, ‘Just kiss already,
you fools!’ But this wasn’t a movie, this was my new, confusing, slightly
messed up life. And this situation was far from normal. I was a Coimhdeacht, a
member of the Rúnaigh, and he was my boss, my protector, my Cerberus…
my
Cerberus
.

That meant
something to me now. I remember being so incensed when he’d first said it to
me, now it’s all I wanted.
His
protection. Now, I wasn’t even sure I
qualified for it, since I’d overheard him say that I may not belong with them.

Gideon passed by
Liam on his way out and I watched as they had a brief exchange of words then
Liam joined me at the table.

“You okay? You
look a little…I don’t know…” he wiggled his fingers around his own face and
grinned meaningfully. Had he seen what had passed between Gideon and me?
“Flustered, or put out, or… something.” He helped himself to my cocktail and
downed it in one swig.

“I’m fine.” I
ignored his somewhat snarky look. I glanced back at the dance floor. I was
drained. I had Gideon on my mind. “I’m done for tonight. I need to sleep. I’m heading
out.” Maybe at least in my sleep I could get that much desired kiss.

“I think we’re
staying for a bit longer. Are you okay to get home? Do you want me to call you
a cab?”

“I’m good. I’ll
call one. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“You sure
everything is alright?”

I nodded in
reply, smiled, and waved him off to Serena.

No. I was not
okay. I was far from it at the moment. I was going to make myself crazy.

~ Chapter Twenty-Seven ~

My tattoo is warm, heating up, and
zinging. I look down and it has a razor-sharp luminescence to it, all around
the edges.

I’m in the
ballroom again, but I don’t feel like dancing this time, and there is no music
this time anyway. And I’m looking for something. But I don’t know what.
Uldwynah has sent me here. Said it was important.

Wait! I know.

The key! She
said I had to discover the key. But I’ve been looking for so long now and I
haven’t seen a single one.

I have noticed
though that every time I come near one of the mirrors or archways to an
adjoining room my tattoo does this glimmering thing. But she said the key would
be found here, so I keep wandering this huge room and have steered clear of
going into one of the others. They’re dark, with no candles burning in their
chandeliers or sconces, the only light reaching into them even so slightly
comes from the room in which I’m standing.

I already
searched the desk and only came up with a book, which of course I couldn’t
read, but it did make my brain itch, as if I should be able to do so.

Maybe she’d been
mistaken. Maybe I’d misunderstood her. Nothing was here; it had to be in
another room.

I rub my tattoo;
it’s really prickling and making the rest of my flesh feel crawly, like when
you have a really severe sunburn. It was getting annoying. I look down and it’s
iridescent. How can it do that? Special ink? Like the recent influx of
glow-in-the-dark tats?

I’m walking and
looking at it glimmer, and it abruptly brightens, flares…the closer I get to
the archway.

It’s connected.

I stop at the
threshold, I don’t see anything special in there, it’s pretty empty too. Might
as well check it out though. As I pass over the brink, where the black and
white marble change over to green and black, the edges of the archway flicker,
brighten, become incandescent…as does my tattoo.

I look back up
and the second ballroom has disappeared. In its place is the forest I’d seen
before, when I had been here before, in this room. But last time I’d seen it
when the mirror had shifted. The mirror had rippled, shifted, altered to a
window or door, when my arm…my tattooed arm had passed through what should have
been a solid surface.

I walk through
the glowing arch…and into a forest veiled in the violet blue of dusk.

I can hear the
birds, crickets, forest creatures. My senses are alive. I can smell the earth,
moss, pine needles, wet leaves, sap. The air is sweet and refreshing,
uncultivated and invigorating. This place is real. I touch the tree closest to
me; feel the roughness of the bark beneath my fingertips, the softness of the
lichen.

I found Gideon
here before…or more like he found me. I stand inside the circle of the trees,
waiting, appreciating the absolute beauty of this place.

The bobbing
lights catch my attention and I begin to follow them, trailing after them
through the ferns and over the leaf strewn path. Then I see him and my heart
jumps, my stomach drops. Gideon. He’s standing just a slight ways up ahead of
me. He turns and sees me. My step falters. His expression isn’t one of
pleasure, as it had been previously, but instead anger…no not anger…it is
annoyance, or maybe frustration. He turned too quickly, moved away too quickly
to tell exactly. But joy to see me, it was not.

Why? Last time I
was here, he’d kissed me. He keeps walking away. I hesitate, then follow. He
stops, turns to me, looking bemused, but also irritated. Why are his emotions
so torn? He continues on his way. And again I follow. I lose sight of him when
the trees grow thicker and obscure my line of vision.

We’re near the
pool—it’s even more magnificent tonight, set aglow by the underwater path of
stones in its center that I can see now leads to, or from, a waterfall—when I
see him again. He’s not alone. He’s with a woman.

Something
tightens around my heart. I don’t like seeing him speaking so closely to
another woman. Why do they need to stand so close?

 I traipse
closer, staying shrouded behind the screen of the foliage, willing myself
invisible to them. I want to hear them. I’m afraid to hear

“…mistake…”

“…different…and
more so with every passing day. She’s so extremely unique. Exceptional…”

“…supposed to be
something else, designed for…

“…the
G
ceannas ar
C
hruthú
.
The Charge
of Genesis
…
was
…

“…the key is…”

The key?
Something about the key.

I wish I could
hear everything they were saying, catching only parts of it was worse than
hearing nothing at all. Were they speaking of the key I was supposed to be
looking for?

Twigs snap
underfoot as I steal closer. An owl hoots and then takes flight overhead. The
woman vanishes. She just disappeared into nothingness. Gideon looks to me. Why
does he wear such a grim expression? Then he is gone in a blink too.

I begin to move
through the brush, but I’m no longer on foot, I’m astride Eyvindur. He moves
into a trot and we begin to race through the forest. The wind rushing past us
feels heavenly and erases any other thought from my mind. The violet tinged sky
is darkening into a deep velvety blue, but the bobbing lights set the trails
alight as they dance through the lower hanging branches.

Behind us I hear
the thunder of many more hooves, the baying of hounds.
The chilling
sound of a hunting horn can be heard reverberating throughout the woods. The
sky was taking on a stormy appearance.

I look behind me
and I see closing in on us a group of nearly thirty riders on large black
horses. They are all nearly identical to Eyvindur. In front of them, and
running dangerously under their hooves, is a large pack of dark dogs, they too
are exceptional in size. The riders are all dressed in variations of armor and
sport bows and swords. I see that I am also. An icy chill courses through me,
they are hunters. They are hunting me. At the lead is Gideon. My heart ices
over. I urge Eyvindur on. Why is Gideon with them? From the brief glimpse I was
able to get of them, they are all stunning. Heart-stopping powerful looking,
both the male and female. At first glance I had thought that they were the ones
from the roof top, from that very first dream, but those creatures were hideous
and these are breathtaking. I almost want to stop running, but something in me
urges me forward.

“Milis
Draghail!” Gideon has caught up to me and screams over the sound of the
pounding hooves, the others hold back, I’m sure they could catch up easily if
they wished, as has Gideon. He grabs Eyvindur’s mane with one hand, pulling,
slowing his gallop. His free arm wraps around my waist, hauling me onto his
horse with him, across his legs, and without a word kisses me roughly. My body
responds immediately.

The others cheer
raucously and turn their horses away, towards the sound of the baying hounds
that have moved on elsewhere.